


Hurt whilst you can

by Truetomorrow



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: And all of the hugs, As a basic tag I'm just so sorry, Because that is absolutely what it is., Bring on the sin, But I should just let this stay PWP, But I'm also kind of figuring this all out?, But there will definitely be sex, Daddy Kink, Gradence trash for days, Grindlewho?, I'll add to the tags as needed, M/M, Not totally sure where this is going yet, Praise Kink, Warning: I'm probably going to try to work in some plot, pretty clear lack of understanding of the male body, these boys deserve the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9417650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truetomorrow/pseuds/Truetomorrow
Summary: A strange journal appears, and Graves is shocked to read detailed descriptions of himself engaging in sexual acts with another man. The only problem there is that Graves has no memory of any of these encounters, or the mystery man writing them. Although he's going to do everything he can to remedy that.Cinderella meets gratuitous sex meets 'these boys deserve the world'





	1. There's something so tragic about you

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written a WiP or a multi-chapter fic, so this will be slow-going, unless I get a ton of comments. It'll still happen, regardless, but I need encouragement, darnit! Also, I am the worrrrst at summaries, I know.  
> Title is a line in a song by dodie. I'm so sorry. But she has such good music and just!

_A mouth._ His _mouth. Always his mouth, the nameless man who comes to me in my sleep. Some nights it feels so real that it is only the mess I have made of myself that reveals he was never really there. His mouth was never there, so hot and wet and siphoning away the evidence of my sin–tempting me to sin further._ Just a bit more, my boy, trust me? _And every night, before I can take the hand he holds up to me, before I can push him away, he disappears and I am left alone again. Awake, ashamed, longing._

_Who is he, this man? What witchcraft does he employ to make me fall so hard, so fast. How has my brain conjured up this demon, this powerful creature who tempts me, makes me willing to throw everything away just for a moment of his time. Willing to destroy worlds for a touch. What wouldn’t I do, for a kiss?_

_Night after night, he comes. Some nights I can almost hear his voice, feel the stiff hair beneath my palm as he lowers down, his eyes so dark and intense, staring into my soul. His mouth devouring my—_

“Abernathy!” The man gasps and tosses down the book in his hands.

            “Mr. Graves! Sir, I– Did you–“ Graves refrains from rolling his eyes, but it is a near thing. The other man is always twitchy around him, but this is too much; he eyes the book in curiosity.

            “I’m looking for Tina. Miss Goldstein. I believe this is her desk?” Abernathy shifts uncomfortably and glances down swiftly before he stands, eyes not meeting those of the Director.

            “Yes sir, this is her desk. She ran out on her lunch, sir, and I ah…” his eyes shift back to the slim book on the desk, before nearly sprinting around the desk to skirt around Graves and—did the man just curtsey?—Abernathy continues breathlessly “I have a meeting, sir.” Then he’s gone. Graves looks again at what he now ascertains to be a journal of some sort, but as he goes to pick it up, he hears footsteps behind him.

            “Director Graves! You made it!” Tina smiles at him as she approaches, but as she moves around the desk she stops to frown slightly as she sees the journal moved.

            Graves can see the question begin to form, so he leans forward to pick it up, “Abernathy was engrossed in it when I came over. Is this what you mentioned in your note?” Tina flushes, and again Graves’s curiosity is piqued, although he only raises an eyebrow and waits for Tina to explain.

            “The book is… That is. Director,” Graves narrows his eyes, and Tina takes a breath to collect her thoughts. “Sir, my sister Overheard some no-maj teens reading this book on the street and we had to confiscate it, and modify their memories, just a touch. It seems the book is enchanted and filled with rather…” here, again, she is unable to continue, and Graves finally opens the book for himself, glancing down at the untidy scrawl.

            _–know he’s someone important, someone powerful. His hands are tender over my skin, but hold me down with little effort–_

            “Sir? There’s… There’s a reason I waited to tell you, specifically. You see…” She holds out a hand for the book, and Graves tries to hide his reluctance in handing it over. “Queenie… she Overheard the boys wondering what a wampus is.” She flips through the book, and Graves just stares in confusion until the book is back in his hand, Tina pointing to a newer entry, avoiding his eyes. “You have a wampus tattoo…” Graves’s eyebrows shoot up. This is a fact well-known by his team of Aurors, but his eyes are drawn directly to a line in the book and a chill goes down his spine.

 _‘That, my boy, is a wampus. Go ahead and touch it, only I will bite.’ He chuckles, and I can’t help but shiver. The tattoo doesn’t feel raised, but I swear I can see it move. I meet his eyes as he smiles down at me, and I know it is true._ Magic.


	2. Something so magic about you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut this chapter, although I did spend my lunch break writing smut for later so GoOd WoRk BrAiN. Thank you to everyone who commented and gave kudos! I honestly didn't expect that much so soon! There will definitely be some sort of sexy times in the next chapter (I am so sorry I just wrote those words what even), but apparently this is where this chapter wanted to go. Turns out the chapter titles just want to be from Hozier so... There's that.  
> Also, I apologize for my obsession with commas. Thought I dropped that in grad school... NOPE!

            Credence sees the woman before she sees him, and he has to fight with everything he has to keep himself small, curled away, when all he wants is to run up to her and hug her. Thank her. Apologize to her. What she had done for him, attacking his Ma like that… He hunches up. She had looked so sad, so broken, when he last saw her, guiltily explaining that she wouldn’t be able to come around any more, that she had been temporarily stripped of her position. All because of him. He glances up at her, making sure to keep his head tucked as far down as he can make it go, and he sees that now she is not alone. There’s a man beside her, a man Credence would know anywhere.

            ‘ _That’s it, my boy. Just like that…”_

            Credence gasps, and only the knowledge of what his Ma will do to him if he runs away from one of her meetings is able to hold him in place. He feels eyes on him, knows it is Miss Tina or the man next to her _,_ but he does not look up again.

            How can he be here? And who is he? If he’s come with Miss Tina, it must mean… But his Ma has stopped preaching, and has shoved him into the crowd to distribute fliers. He hands them out blindly, avoiding the spot he last saw Miss Tina and… Credence’s thoughts sputter out. People mostly ignore him, but he has grown used to that over the years. He has come to expect it, really, so when someone finally does approach him to take a flier, he knows, before he even looks up, what he is going to see.

            “Hello Credence.” He glances up and sees Miss Tina give him a worried smile as she shifts slightly, clearly uncomfortable. “This is my boss. Dir—Mr. Graves.” She shoots the man a stubborn look, which he meets with a sighed “Tina…” before turning to face Credence.

            His mouth is dry, and he feels frozen. They’ve come to arrest him. They know what he’s been dreaming. What he’s been thinking. They have come to punish him, reveal his sins to the world. He is shaking slightly by the time he slides his gaze to meet the older man’s stare. He has yet to say anything, just staring down at Credence, studying him; and Credence finds that he can’t look away, not with those eyes locked on his. He can do nothing but wait.

            “Perhaps we should move out of the street?” Credence is surprised, and he breaks the eye contact; surely they would want a crowd to watch… want to make a spectacle of him as he was arrested for— Credence feels a hand on his elbow, and he flinches even as he raises his head to look at the man—Mr. Graves—who is leading him to a nearby alley where Tina is waiting. Graves doesn’t remove his hand, and after the first instinctive flinch, Credence doesn’t try to move away from it. Can’t even imagine wanting to be rid of that touch; for as small as it is, it is kind, gentle, and Credence begins to relax.

            They don’t know. They are not here to arrest him, or beat him for his deviance. Not that he is sure what that leaves. Why they could possibly be here otherwise. So he follows where he is led, into the dim mouth of the alley, with Tina’s smiling face and the warm pressure on his elbow from the literal man of his dreams. Credence wonders if, even now, he is dreaming.

            If he is, he thinks, all he can do is hope he never wakes up.

***

            Graves had seen the file on the Second Salemers, had read, and reluctantly signed off on, the report of The Incident that had cost Tina her position, had even listened to Tina as she ranted about the conditions the Barebone boy existed in… but he had never seen the boy. He was surprised to realize he had never seen so much as a picture of the child who he now watched closely. Thin, Graves thought, far too thin and sickly pale, and although he couldn’t see the kid’s eyes with how he stood all hunched into himself, Graves found himself wondering idly about them, as he ignores the drone of the Barebone woman.

            Graves snaps back to attention when Tina brushes past him, moving towards Credence’s hunched figure as he tries to hand out pieces of paper. Following behind her, Graves notes that even without looking up, Credence seems to recognize when Tina approaches. Graves stands next to her as she introduces him, and he shoots her a look when she refers to him as her boss, still—but he says nothing.

            The boy looks terrified. Tina had told him about the boy, about how his mother beats him, how he took so long to warm up to even Tina’s kindness. Then Credence barely meets Graves’s eyes, and his breath halts in his chest. This is no boy. No child. Graves had never asked Tina for Credence’s age, he hadn’t thought it mattered. Glancing up at him through lowered lashes are a man’s eyes; looking old beyond his years due to circumstances, sure, but nowhere near as young as Graves had been led to believe. His eyes are defiant, full of fire and fear, but unbroken; Graves never wants to look away. Distantly he hears himself speaking, knows they need to move out of the street, need to do… something. Credence breaks the eye contact, and Graves can breathe easily again, chiding himself for his reaction.

            Still, he reaches out to guide the boy to where Tina is standing, not removing his touch when the boy jerks at first. Graves tries not to read anything into the fact that Credence allows the small touch. Tries not to imagine what other touches he could give this boy… With a start, he realizes they have reached Tina, who casts a quick _Notice Me Not_ around them, but his hand is still pressed against Credence’s elbow. What is wrong with him? That damn journal must have messed with his head, he thinks, although Tina had also read it and seemed normal enough… His hand falls down against his side, and Credence glances at Graves out of the corner of his eyes, assessing, thoughtful. Wanting.

            Gritting his teeth, he forces himself to focus. Time to get down to business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (to defeat the huns)
> 
> Please leave kudos and/or comments if you liked it!


	3. Get closer to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why oh why did I think any plot would be a good idea?? Hahahaha. I am still absolutely blown away that people are reading this, and liking it? Thank you so much, believe me I know just how many wonderful fics with this pairing there are and... Just, thank you! It's looking like this'll be 5 chapters, but I guess we'll see. This chapter is shorter than I had originally planned, so wHo KnOwS
> 
> Daddy kink and praise kink come into play here so uh, there's that.

            Graves cannot get away from the meeting fast enough. He is the Director of Magical Security, and here he is, blindsided by a boy nearly half his age. It’s only because Tina always referred to Credence as a child, or as “the Barebone boy.” That is the person he promised to check in on, the child Graves could keep an eye on, protect, while Tina is unable to make contact. That meeting was just supposed to be an introduction. He scowls.

            If he had at least been warned… _warned about what?_ How could Tina have warned him about the reaction he would feel to someone she obviously saw as nothing more than a child in need of help. Which is exactly what Graves should see as well. Not a young man with lips he wants nothing more than to bite until they are red and kiss swollen, and eyes as dark as Graves’s desires…

            It has been days since that first meeting, and he sits in an armchair, staring unseeing into the fire in front of him. He knows he needs to find the boy again. Make sure he’s okay. Make sure he doesn’t startle away when Graves touches him— Feeling at a loss, Graves snatches up the journal. Work is what he needs now, he thinks, which means reading more of this journal—after all, investigating is what he does. That is safe ground. Familiar territory. He had almost forgotten about it, in the rush of the past few days.

            Opening the journal, Graves knows he is lying to himself.

            _I feel him, now, before I see him, and it is a struggle in and of itself: the choice between keeping my eyes closed, and opening my eyes to look into his own. The thought of missing a single expression on his face solves that quickly enough, but I wonder what it would be like, to let him touch me while all I can do is feel. And he makes me feel, there is no doubt about that._

_On the nights I wake up still hard I never last long, remembering what we did in dreams. I wonder how much of it is real. What it would feel like to have hands touching places nothing except clothing has touched. And some spots, even untouched by that._

Graves shifts, adjusting himself as he reads. Really, this is quite tame. Nothing more than the secret thoughts of an imaginative young man. Besides that one mention of a wampus tattoo… And that can’t be too uncommon. There must be others, like him, proud of their Ilvermorny past… Again, Graves knows he is lying to himself. He flips forward a few pages and finds a new entry. One he would swear hadn’t been there when he had brought the book home.

            _With a wave of his hand, I am naked, my clothes just… gone. I stare at him in wonder, another example of_ magic. _He directs me to lay on the bed with a murmur, and I feel his eyes on me as I crawl onto the soft surface. I feel the need for him like the need to breathe, arching on the bed, pushing as much of myself towards him as I can manage. I can’t—I don’t_ want _to hide how hard I am for him. I see an answering bulge in his pants as he crawls up after me, hands nearly burning me as they stroke over my skin._

 _Finally, my wrists held above my head by one of his hands, his other hand roams my body. I can’t hold back the noises as hard as I try, but he seems pleased, and kisses me lightly on the lips._ There’s my good boy. Keep your wrists above your head for me. Can you do that for me, my boy? _I nod. “Anything for you, daddy.” He growls, and presses another kiss to my lips before trailing his mouth down my neck._ Such a good boy. Keep your hands still while daddy sucks your gorgeous cock _. I grab the sheet beneath my hands and hold on as he traces a hot path down my chest._

_Then I wake up and I’m alone again. Hard, aching, arms raised above my head as if, even in sleep, I wanted to please him._

            Graves’s head is in his hands, the journal on the floor. Wordless, wandless magic, and a wampus tattoo… It isn’t impossible. But Graves has to accept the fact that he knows, somehow, the man in the writing is him. _Daddy…_ Graves growls, fighting away the image of Credence, lips wet and parted, moaning for Graves. Calling him… He undoes the buttons on his pants and his mind goes almost blissfully clear as his hand makes contact with his hard length. And if he pictures a dark haired boy with fire in his eyes as he strokes himself off where he sits, who else would be the wiser?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr, if you'd like! [My Tumblr](http://chryselephantinechaos.tumblr.com). If you dare ;P


	4. Something So Precious about This (oh what a sin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering the last few paragraphs are the FIRST things I wrote for this fic (see what I meant, about adding plot when I hadn't meant to?), this took way too long to post. Sorry for the delay, I got sick [even thinking about smut with a UTI is kind of the worst, hahaha], but now that I'm better, here's a bit of a tease-y chapter. tl;dr: THANK YOU FOR READING!! You all are fantastic beasts, and I'm so glad we can all join in the sinning together ;D

            Keeping his head low and his shoulders hunched, Credence shuffles out the door, carrying fliers to be passed out. It’s a little earlier than he is supposed to leave, but he’s almost certain his Ma will let him get away with it, thinking it is out of the desire to spread the word about the evils of witches. She can have no way of knowing the kind of desire that actually drives him. He hears a noise behind him, and immediately closes his eyes but continues moving, begging silently to be left alone. He steps out into the sunlight unchallenged, and takes a deep breath, setting off on his usual path.

            Just in case anyone is looking.

            Finally, Credence sees the alley he has been looking for and slips silently into it, moving to the other side, where he comes out on the other side into a park. Tossing the fliers into the first trash bin he passes, he chooses a bench and pulls out a journal.

            The journal is old, well-worn, and Credence’s most prized possession—though he never lets anyone else know that, lest it get taken away. His Ma had picked it up in a second-hand shop in order for him to practice his writing; the pamphlets and fliers they create must be compelling, after all, and if something is not written well no one will want to read it. And then how will their souls be saved?

            Credence frowns as he flips to the back of the book.

            It hadn’t taken him long to discover that his Ma was reading what he wrote, and yet he needed to write, needed to share his thoughts with even this inanimate something. He had no one else. And when the dreams started…

            So Credence prayed. Prayed his Ma wouldn’t see these certain entries and, as if by magic, the words were gone the next time Credence opened the book, although the rest of his earlier work remained. And now he knew enough to acknowledge that the journal _was_ magic, and wasn’t that the most delicious irony, his Ma buying him a magical journal that allowed him to write out his darkest fantasies with no one the wiser.

            And then there were the dreams… Credence shifted on the bench, beginning to write. No nameless face any longer, he now had a name to put to the man whose image visited his dreams and sinned so willingly with him. Graves. Percival Graves. Credence had been stunned to see him in real life, and although it was next to nothing, even the memory of the man’s hand on his elbow nearly brought him to his knees with longing.

            With a sigh, Credence loses himself in the writing, thoughts filled with Graves.

***

            Nerves flicker in his stomach as he waits for the boy to pass by him. Graves knows this is the path he takes when he hands out fliers, and Graves is prepared to wait as long as it takes for Credence to show up. He ignores the thought that he should find the younger man where he is now, rather than wait for him in an alley. He is a grown man, he can be patient.

            Graves kicks a pebble in frustration.

            He can’t get the boy’s eyes out of his mind. Hasn’t been able to get the boy himself out of his mind, but his eyes in particular haunt Graves. He could have sworn there was desire there. When they had first met. It’s taken him days to admit it to himself, and he isn’t sure if any of it is more to do with that _damn_ journal than the truth.

            He is scowling at the pebble across the alley from him when he senses movement to his left.

            Credence freezes when he spots Graves, then continues towards him, almost dream-like, shoulders barely hunched. Once the boy gets close enough, Graves casts a silent _Notice Me Not_ and looks at Credence’s face, still turned away. Before he can think it through, Graves places the tips of his fingers beneath Credence’s chin, his other hand reaching out to clasp his elbow, drawing him closer. When they finally meet his, Credence’s eyes are dazed, and his lips are parted, red where he had been biting them.

            Graves opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it again. Lost in staring into the dark eyes that had filled his fantasies for days.

            His fingers slide to cup the younger man’s jaw, moving to cradle his neck.

            Credence crowds closer to Graves, nuzzling his face into the older man's neck as he lets out a little sigh. Graves lets out a groan as he feels the hot press of the boy's lips moving against his neck, and he silently curses himself. _Notice Me Not_ or no, they are still in an alley, still a public space, and he is teetering on the edge of his control, wanting nothing more than to shove this boy against the wall behind him and rut into him like some mindless creature. 

            He can feel all of Credence, pressed together as tightly as they are, the warmth of his body along the entire length of his own, the hardness against his hip that matches his own. He realizes with a start that the boy is taller than himself, and he wraps an arm around Credence's waist, grinds just a touch more firmly. 

            When Graves feels Credence meeting his movements, he can’t hold back the groaned, "good boy, there you go..." 

            Credence whimpers, and they both freeze when he moans, "thank you, daddy..."

            In that instant, Graves sees the terror in Credence's eyes. Before the boy can move away in horror, he tightens his hold and kisses him with a low growl, hips thrusting once, uncontrolled, against the younger man's. “ _thank you, daddy...”_ Fuck. He gathers his focus, and they spin out of existence.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you liked it, and leave kudos!
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr, if you'd like! [My Tumblr](http://chryselephantinechaos.tumblr.com). If you dare ;P


	5. Honey, you're familiar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took me so long. It's... well, it is what it is? Finally a bit more smut, though! (And So MaNy CoMmAs)

            They apparate into Graves’s apartment, Credence still clutched in Graves’s arms as he pushes the younger man into the wall behind them. Credence whines when Graves slips his thigh between his legs, and Graves struggles to regain some control even as he presses frenzied kisses to the boy’s face. Something falls to the ground, but neither of them care enough to see what it is. Graves spares a moment’s thought to the safety of his living room, before deciding he doesn’t have much he cares too much about anyway, and flicking a wrist towards the door, making sure his wards are active.

            Credence keeps up a near steady stream of whines and breathless noises, and Graves continues touching him, trying to find new ways to keep them coming. Credence’s neck seems to be particularly sensitive, and Graves focuses most of his attention there, as he continues pressing his thigh against Credence’s cock, grinding his own on the boy’s right hipbone. Graves clutches Credence’s left hip in an effort to steady himself. Or pull the younger man closer. Regardless, it makes Credence mewl in a way that Graves had never even dreamed of hearing, and he groans.

            “Ohhh, my boy. Sweet boy. You feel so good. Tell me to stop. Just–”

            Credence’s hand is in his hair then, pulling him closer with a groan. “Please. Please don’t stop. Da–Mr. Graves…”

            Hating himself before he even opens his mouth, Graves still doesn’t hold back his response. He had wanted this. God how he had wanted this—Credence pliant beneath him, hard against him, calling him Daddy, with his eyes so dazed… The circumstances may not have been exactly what he had been imagining but the reality of Credence against him was even better than even his darkest daydreams.

            “Now, now, my boy,” Graves breathes into Credence’s ear, “please don’t stop… what?”

            And that’s perfect; Credence’s head drops back, baring his neck as he moans “Daddy. Please.”

            Letting out another growl, Graves bites kisses into Credence’s throat. “There’s Daddy’s good boy, Credence. What do you want?” He doesn’t expect a reply, not really, as he bites down on the skin at the juncture of Credence’s neck and shoulders; so Graves grins when Credence only lets out a whine and cants his hips against Graves’s thigh.

            “Please… oh! Daddy, _please_ …” Graves digs his fingers into Credence’s hip, using his other hand to grasp Credence’s hair to keep their eyes locked.

            “Come for me, my boy. Come for Daddy.” Graves’s voice is a low rumble and Credence keens, his hips stuttering against Graves’s thigh desperately as he comes. Graves continues to watch his face go taut then slack in bliss, keeping his thigh firm against his boy. He is even more beautiful like this, flushed and relaxed from pleasure, and Graves can’t look away.

            They need to stop. The thought is sudden, but sharp. Credence is a no-maj. A squib at the very most (Graves ignores the hope that gives him); Graves needs to take them back to the alley, Obliviate Credence, then come back and take care of himself. He knows his own cock will still be hard and aching. He is frantically close as it is, just watching this boy fall apart for him with a little praise and some touches.

            Graves draws in a steadying breath and leans his forehead against Credence’s shoulder. Rather, the spot his shoulder had been a moment ago. He blinks.

            Credence kneels at his feet, fingers already working on tugging aside the fabric blocking him from his goal. Graves needs to stop him. Needs to… Fuck. He needs to stop lying to himself.

            Lowering a hand to once again card through the boy’s hair, Graves notes that it is not quite steady. He himself doesn’t feel quite steady. Well. If they are going to do this… Graves strokes Credence’s jaw and steps back from the hands now trying to tug his pants down. When Credence shifts towards him with a soft cry, Graves offers the boy his hand.

            “Follow me.” Standing, Credence pauses only for a heartbeat before he takes the hand in front of him. There is a look on his face Graves can’t quite decipher, but their eyes meet and hold, and Credence stands tall.

            Graves strokes his thumb over Credence’s hand as he leads the younger man to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you liked it, and leave kudos! 
> 
> (Please?)
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr: [My Tumblr](http://chryselephantinechaos.tumblr.com). If you dare ;P


	6. I Slithered Here from Eden Just to Sit Outside Your Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, this took a while to update. Sorry. I was debating whether I wanted to end it with this chapter or not, but then I decided these boys deserved So Much More sex. So...

            His mind made up, Graves shuts the door to his bedroom as soon as Credence follows him inside. He has not let go of the boy’s hand, and Credence makes no move to withdraw it. Graves isn’t sure where to go from here. Oh, he knows what he _wants_ to do, but can’t be sure they have enough time to make that a possibility. His mind fills with images of Credence, gasping that damn word, clinging to him so desperately, the sight of him on his knees before Graves…

            No. They definitely do not have time for what he wants to do with the younger man.

            The desire to press on, regardless, and wipe the memories of Credence’s family worries him. As does the longing to keep him. To never send Credence back to the bitch who should be his protector. For _Graves_ to be his protector.

            Graves has to admit none of those are viable options. The laws he is breaking just _now_ …

            Graves looks over and meets Credence’s gaze. His face is still flushed delicately from orgasm, eyes half-lidded and pupils wide, but he meets Graves’s eyes and with only a slight hesitation he walks backwards to the bed. His hand slips out of Graves’s only at the last second, when Credence pulls it back so he can use both hands to slide himself up onto the bed.

            His legs are spread in wordless invitation and he bites his bottom lip when he adjusts his stance, letting it pop back out as he lounges back.

            Graves watches all of this with a groan, and begins removing his layers by hand, tossing them in the general direction of the armchair he vaguely remembers being in that corner (like hell is he looking away from the gorgeous creature on his bed) as he stares at the shine on Credence’s plump bottom lip—giving the boy plenty of time to shy away, to change his mind, anything. Instead, Credence licks his lips and keeps his focus on Graves’s hands as the older man slips the buttons on his shirt loose one by one.

            When the shirt finally slides fully off, Graves moves to the chair to drop it on the heap of clothes, and he turns around in time to catch the expression of shock that flits over Credence’s face. Graves frowns, slightly. “Credence?”

            “Your… your tattoo, sir. It’s…” he hesitates, seemingly trying to decide on a word. “It’s moving.”

            Graves can’t keep the grin off of his face as he prowls closer to the bed, raising one hand to stroke through Credence’s hair before coming to rest at the back of his skull. “It’s a magical tattoo, they can be charmed to move around just like the real animal it represents.”

            Credence reaches a hand up to stroke over the skin in awe, but hovering just over the skin at the last moment. “Mr. Graves… sir… What… It looks like a… like a cat? But that isn’t what it is.” He begins to look afraid for the first time since the alley, and they can’t have that. He has also slipped back into the formal addresses, which rankles now.

            Now that Graves knows the sound and feel of Credence breathing “Daddy” against his skin, knows the taste of that word on those lips against his own so very intimately. His eyes drop down to those lips and he considers for only a moment before Graves adopts his calmest tones, keeping his thumb rubbing against Credence’s hair, drifting to stroke his neck as well.

            “That, my boy, is a wampus. Go ahead and touch it, only I will bite.” Graves had meant the line to be flirty, but he frowns. Something about that sounded… but Credence surges up and presses their lips together, and all thoughts empty from his head to be replaced with the renewed longing for Credence. Only Credence.

            Credence’s hands drift down Graves’s sides, making a brief stop back to stroke the skin where the wampus prowls before lingering over the warm skin of his waist before they apply themselves to unfastening the pants again.

            This time Graves doesn’t stop him, only strokes the younger man’s neck and lets out soft gasps when Credence’s hands brush against his covered cock.

            Credence keeps glancing up at Graves’s face as if to gauge his reactions, and when the boy’s hand finally makes contact with his length, Graves doesn’t hold back the whimper that emerges. He decides he will never hold back any reactions when he sees the way Credence’s pupils widen even more, the way his breaths are short and fast and—

            Credence’s tongue swipes tentatively over the head of Graves’s cock. Even expecting it as he has been, Graves feels his hips jolt towards the younger man and he strokes both hands over any skin he can reach.

            “Oh Credence, that’s it, my boy. Just like that…” Credence’s fingers tighten against Graves’s hips where they had latched on, and he shifts on the bed, hips making an aborted thrust against air before he locks eyes with Graves and slides more of Graves’s cock into his mouth. One hand wraps around what he can’t fit, and the other undoes his own pants, already tented again from his own arousal.

            Graves growls and waves his hand over the boy, vanishing his clothing. “Bed.” God, he can’t even form a coherent sentence, but Credence recovers from his surprise and understands, moving towards the head of the bed. He grins at Graves as he vanishes the rest of his own clothing before following the boy and kneeling over him as he sprawls against the covers.

            “Yes, Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. idek. I had all of these great ideas about this chapter, then realized I have forgotten how to write porn?? Oops. 
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day/week/month/plz love me
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr: [My Tumblr](http://chryselephantinechaos.tumblr.com)


	7. Idealism Sits in Prison, Chivalry Fell on Its Sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long, RL has been weird. Only one chapter left of what, in all actuality, should have just been a one-shot hahaha. Thank you for sticking around! <3 <3

            Impatiently, Credence reaches for Graves again as soon as he is firmly situated beside him. He has been pushed away in some form twice already, and he is getting desperate. He _needs_ his mouth on the man’s cock again. Fingers trail over Graves’ hips as his eyes flick between the slick head so close to his mouth and the older man’s face. Would Graves push him away again now, if… Credence bites his lip.

            “Please, Daddy.” He rubs his thumbs over Graves’ hipbones and revels in the groan that escapes the man when Credence moves closer to hover just over the tip of Graves’ cock, breath puffing out. He flicks his tongue out and Graves’ hand is finally tangled in his hair again. Credence moans as the fingers tug against the strands when he tries to move closer, and he wishes he had more for the man to grab onto. Frustrated tears prickle against his eyes. “ _Daddy…_ ”

            “Shh, my boy. Soon. You look so good like this,” he lets out a sigh. “Oh, my sweet boy, this is all I’ve been able to think about for too long…” Credence feels a jolt of arousal go through him at the thought that Graves had wanted this, had thought about this too. He whimpers around the mouthful of cock he has managed, wishing he could have more, straining against the hand that is barely restraining him while thrilling at that lack of control itself.

            Graves holds firm, merely looking down at Credence with his lips curved into a pleased almost-smile. Credence narrows his eyes in petulance and slides up to the tip again, pressing the point of his tongue into the slit in little flicks, watching as Graves drops his head back with a groan. “Oh _god_ , baby. The first time I saw you… I know I shouldn’t have,” the hand in Credence’s hair finally releases its grip, moving to stroke gently. Credence almost doesn’t notice, though, as he can’t get past the man’s words. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, imagining the way you’d look beneath me. I never… I never thought—”

            Graves pulls back from Credence to straddle his hips, making sure to grind against the younger man’s length as he moves. Credence can’t look away from his direct gaze, eyes locked with the older man as they shift against each other in aborted movements. Graves leans down to whisper in his ear, and the new position allows him to press their chests together. Credence shivers at the contact, arching his back for more, trying to press himself as close to Graves as he can. “I wanted to see you on your knees for me, I needed to… I needed to know what it would sound like, to have you call me ‘Daddy’ and, god, baby. It’s even better than I had fantasized.”

            He means it, Credence realizes. This didn’t happen today just because Credence was weak and clingy and Graves had been—what? humoring him? He scoffs at himself—Graves _wanted_ him. Graves  had wanted him, and he did want him now. All of the nights since they had met, those nights when Credence had had a name to put to the face he had been dreaming of for even longer than that… Graves had wanted him, too.

            Credence allows his hands to roam the body above him, whimpering when Graves nuzzles into his neck before pressing hot kisses to his skin. Credence has wanted, too. He has ached and needed and somehow _seen_ what two men can do. And he wants that. He’s just not sure how to get that desire across. The tone with which he has heard his Ma say “sodomite” makes him pretty certain that is not the word to use, so he struggles to think through the desire and his own lack of experience. Something Graves is Not making easy for him. All he can do is breathe out little whines of “please” and grasp onto Graves’s shoulders as his breaths gasp out from him at every touch of lips.

            The touches are torture, never enough, but if Graves stops, Credence thinks he might just die. As Graves introduces nibbles of his teeth along with the hot press of his lips, Credence is pretty certain he is going to die, regardless, so he may as well enjoy the touches.

            And yet.

            Credence takes a deep breath and moves his arms to rest above his head, gripping the top of the headboard and Graves slowly stops kissing whatever skin he can reach, eyeing the stretch of Credence fully spread out before him. Little pink and red marks litter his neck, shoulders, and chest, mixing with the flush of arousal across his skin. Graves stares down at him, as if in a trance before he takes a shuddering breath and slides himself off so he can rest between Credence’s legs, making sure to keep his hands on the boy all the while.

            It’s finally something, closer in the direction Credence needs, but he is still nervous as he meets Graves’s eyes again, keeping his hands firm on the headboard.

            “Oh, my darling boy. So good for Daddy… Can you keep yourself just like that for me, my boy?” Graves’s hands rub soothingly (distractingly) into Credence’s thighs, and he has to remind himself to focus.

            Credence nods, “Anything for you, Daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I TRIED SO HARD TO GET TO THE SEX but i think i might have actually forgotten how? oh nooooo!
> 
> Comments might help refresh my memory ;) 
> 
> (but really, comments mean The World To Me because I need all of the love kthx)
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr: [My Tumblr](http://chryselephantinechaos.tumblr.com)


	8. Love, Break, and Learn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.

            Graves shudders out a breath and skims his palms over Credence’s hips, pushing slightly to press them down against the bed’s surface. The pressure makes Credence twitch and push back into Graves’s palms, but he keeps his arms over his head, hands firmly clasped to the headboard.

            “God, baby… the things I want to do with you… If only we had the time—” He presses a swift kiss onto one of Credence’s nipples, flicking his tongue out, mouth curving in a grin when Credence keens above him. The action is repeated until Credence is bowed up beneath him, whines and pleas a constant stream.

            “What do you want, Credence? What should I do to you?” Graves pulls back far enough to take in Credence’s face, huffing out a pleased sigh as Credence drops back flat on the bed, his breath puffs over the damp peaks of Credence’s nipples.

            “Daddy…” Credence is panting heavily, his eyes barely-opened slits as he clings to the headboard, overwhelmed. “Daddy, please. I want…” His hips arch up as far as they can go, pressing his dripping cock against Graves’s chest with more whimpers.

            Before consciously deciding he is going to do it, Graves finds himself once again chest to chest with Credence. He gasps at the feel of so much contact before groaning, “Credence. Baby, you can move. Let me see you touch yourself.”

            Credence reaches one hand down to wrap around his cock and uses the other to grab Graves’s neck to pull him into a biting kiss. He doesn’t last long, breath shallow and Graves pulls back to better watch, focused on Credence’s thumb as it swipes over the head and shooting back to the younger man’s face as he cries out in pleasure and comes over his chest.

            The sight is enough to drive Graves _finally_ over the edge, and he lets out a whimpered grunt that he will deny ever making as his come joins Credence’s on the younger man’s chest. Before the spurts have even stopped, Credence runs a hand through the mess and sucks the fingers into his mouth, eyes blown and locked on Graves.       

            Graves can't keep the fond smile off of his face as he strokes his hand over Credence's chest in aimless patterns, regretfully charming him clean. 

            "Stay."

            Credence glances at him, confused. "...sir?"

            "Stay with me, Credence." The idea has taken hold of him, and he clings to it stubbornly. He can't let Credence leave, not to go back to that woman. He deserves to be taken care of. To be treasured.

            Credence is shaking his head vehemently, pulling away, his body going taut and tensed, eyes darting around for his clothes. For escape.

            "Sir, no. It's not possible. I know... I know even talking to me could get you fired. I couldn't—" he lets out a soft cry at seeing the journal on the nightstand, and grabs for it, clutching it to his naked chest. 

            Things slowly begin to click into place.

            "It's Percival, please." Slowly, Graves sits up to lean against the headboard, still giving Credence his space. "Credence... is that your journal?" His voice calm, Graves can feel his heart pounding. 

            "Yes. I'm sorry, sir, I had it with me this afternoon; I must have dropped it..." 

            Graves presses a hand against the younger man's shaking knee. "Percival. Please." Credence nods, not meeting his eyes. "I wonder... could you do me a favor?"

            Peeking at Graves through lowered lashes, Credence barely makes eye contact for a second before looking away, but he nods again.

            "Credence..." Graves holds out his wand, the dark wood steady despite the falter of his voice, "trust me?"

            A wordless _Accio_ brings a book, and Credence jumps in shock. It is identical to the journal he still clings to like a lifeline. His grip loosens slightly, then completely, so he can reach out to take the wand from the man across from him.

            Credence grips the handle, then locks eyes with Graves in wonder as it begins to rain down flower petals, his face incandescent.

            "You're a wizard, Credence." Graves can barely speak through the tightness of his throat. He swallows the mixture of joy and fear down, _what if he says no, this time?,_ "Please. Stay with me?"

            "Just try and stop me, Percival.” When he smiles, Graves is lost.

            But it feels an awful lot like being found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the same song the fic title comes from. SORRY DODIE.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this. It took even longer to write than anticipated, but I got it to exactly 6900 words sooooo... lol
> 
> IT IS DONE! I AM NEVER WRITING A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC AGAIN OK BYE (Except for finishing Five Times, but that's Basically just a series of drabbles)
> 
> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like. [@chryselephantinechaos](http://chryselephantinechaos.tumblr.com)
> 
> (please comment? plz?)


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